


Five Times Varric Made Cassandra Blush, and One Time She Made Him

by Satine86



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra doesn't blush easily. Or so she thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Varric Made Cassandra Blush, and One Time She Made Him

_I. Once when they shared a tent_

They were in the Hinterlands, and she'd thought nothing of it at the time. She had simply taken the tent farthest from the campfire, away from the Inquisitor sharing stories with the requisition officers and Solas.

Though, apparently Varric had had the same thought. 

It should not have bothered her, she had shared close quarters with men and women for more years than she could count. She could remember sharing a tent with Cullen after Haven, and never once had that given her pause. This time, however, she hesitated when she found Varric already stretched out on a bedroll inside the tent. 

“I...” she pressed her lips together, thinking of what to say. “It is quieter away from the others.” 

He propped himself up on his elbow, that familiar smirk visible in the dim glow of the campfire behind her. 

“Don't worry, Seeker. I promise to keep my hands to myself.” He winked and waggled his fingers at her, laughing as he flopped back onto his bedroll. 

She made a noise in the back of her throat and crawled into the tent, shutting the flap quickly. In the darkness, she was thankful her face was hidden. She wasn't sure she could explain the heat rising to her cheeks. 

Mostly since she wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed by his goading, or more angry because the idea didn't sound so unpleasant. 

 

_II. Once when he ignored her._

She had paced outside the hall, walking up and down the steps countless times, rehearsing what she would say. Unfortunately words had never been her strong suit... that much was obvious by how often she stuck her foot in her mouth, especially when her temper got away from her.

Especially with Varric. 

She moaned and covered her face. Why was this so difficult? Perhaps because she knew she had been out of line, and perhaps because she knew he deserved a sincere apology. Only how did one apologize for everything she had put him through?

Sucking in a deep breath, she finally worked up the courage to enter the hall. She would keep it simple. That was the best she could do. 

Varric was seated at the table he'd confiscated by the fire, writing something. He seemed quite intent on his task, brows furrowed as his quill danced across the leaves of parchment.

She stopped by his chair, cleared her throat to gain his attention. He didn't look up. 

“May I have a moment, Varric?” 

Still, he did not respond. Only the slight tensing of his shoulders gave any indication that he was aware of her presence. 

Suddenly she wondered if perhaps she had finally gone too far. Ruined any chance of friendship. Ruined any chance of.... 

Of what? Something more? That was preposterous. She only wanted Varric as a friend, because they _had_ been friendly. But now? Now it was like speaking to a stone wall. 

“I only wanted to say that I am sorry. For everything.” She turned on her heels, not waiting for a reply. Uncertain there would even be a rely. 

As she raced toward the safety of the smithy and her bedroll, she lifted a hand to her face. Her cheeks were warm with a flustered blush, she was a fool to expect him to forgive her. She was even more of a fool for feeling sad about the fact he would not. 

 

_III. Once when he teased her._

The book had been completely unexpected... and wholly wonderful. She wanted to gush about it, she wanted to talk about details and ask questions and glean any information she could about further adventures.

Only she could not do so, not when it was so embarrassing. And certainly not when they were trekking about the Storm Coast, looking for Darkspawn. 

Though there was one thing she was curious about. A new character, one that had been described as strong and determined and... beautiful. One that had borne a striking resemblance to someone Varric knew. 

She wanted – no – she needed an answer. 

They were traipsing up a hill, their feet sticking in the mud of the worn path, when she attempted to the broach the subject. 

“I finished Swords and Shields, Varric.” 

“That so?” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “What did you think?” 

“I enjoyed. It very much. Thank you, again.”

“Pah! No need to thank me, it was all the Inquisitor's doing.” 

Cassandra bit back an incredulous snort. The Inquisitor did not spend days putting quill to parchment, hours editing and rewriting. And the Inquisitor certainly hadn't had it bound with a proper cover. She wanted to call him on it, but she wanted answers more. 

“I wanted to ask you about your new character--”

“The lieutenant?” He turned around, walking backwards as he surveyed her. “What did you think of her?”

“I quite liked her. She seems.. very capable. Will there be more of her?” 

He smiled. “Maybe, if I continue the series.”

“But you have to!” There was no way he could stop now. She had to know what happened next! The cliffhanger this time had been worse than the one previous. 

Varric was laughing as he turned back around, concentrating on the path before him. “You'll just have to wait and see then, Seeker.” 

She frowned and jogged to pull even with him. “I was wondering about the lieutenant... was she... is she based on someone you know?” 

Cassandra immediately regretted asking the question, because Varric stopped, halting the entire group, and looked up at her with such a thoughtful expression it had to be fake. 

“Why, Seeker,” he drawled. “Did you think I was writing about you?” 

“No! Don't be ridiculous, I was only curious.” Everyone was staring now. Varric opened his mouth for another reply, but she cut him off.

“Forget I said anything!” she growled and started marching up the hill quickly, cheeks burning. Had she _truly_ hoped he'd written about her? She was dismayed to realize to realize the answer was yes. 

 

_IV. Once when she was injured._

She had never felt more like a fool in all her life. 

The mighty Seeker Pentaghast, taken out by _snow._ Well, not just snow. Ice and snow. Really it had been stupid and careless on her part, not paying attention to her footing as she descended a staircase in Suledin Keep. She had spent a good amount of time warning the soldiers who had recently been deployed there to be careful. Yet she had not heeded her own advice. 

Luckily she hadn't fallen outright, only twisting her ankle in an unfortunate way. 

She was even more mortified by her carelessness when Varric rushed to her aid. Of course _he_ had seen everything. 

“Easy there, Seeker,” he said as he brushed snow off the short wall ringing the courtyard. He helped her sit down. 

“It is fine, Varric. Just a slight sprain.” 

“Let me have a look, hm? You'd probably hobble around on a broken ankle before you let anyone know it even hurt.” He knelt in front of her, propping her foot on his knee. 

Cassandra scoffed at him and crossed her arms, looking anywhere except his face. The fact he was probably right did little to improve her current mood. 

She hissed when she realized he was unlacing her boot. “What are you doing?”

“Looking to see if it's just a sprain or something more.” He rolled his eyes, gently slipping her boot off. Cassandra hissed again, pain shooting up her leg. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He slipped off her socks next, gentle as ever. The cool air actually felt nice on her skin, which was rapidly reddening where she had twisted it.

Varric's hand was warm as he gently took her foot, moving it gently to gauge the range of motion. His fingers brushed against the arch of her foot and she had to fight the urge to yank it back, a treacherous giggle nearly escaping her lips. 

His eyes, full of barely suppressed amusement, lifted to meet hers. “Why, Seeker, are you ticklish?” He tested his question by lightly trailing a finger down the sole of her foot. 

“ _Varric_ ,” she shrieked, voice high as she pulled her knee up to get her foot away. 

“You _are_ ticklish.” He was laughing in earnest now. “Any other sensitive places I should know about? Could be important.” 

The thought came unbidden to her mind, his fingers trailing up her leg, feather light behind her knees, trailing over her sides. The blush that accompanied the thought burned her cheeks like a fire. She prayed she could blame it on the cold. 

If he noticed her blush, he had the decency not to comment on it. Instead he finished checking her foot, deemed it a sprain that needed rest, and helped her to replace her socks and boot. 

“Can I help you to your tent?” 

“NO!” she nearly screamed. “No. That's fine. You've done quite enough.” With that she hobbled away as quick as she could manage, wondering if it would be prudent to bury her face in a snow drift. 

 

_V. Once when Cole said something he shouldn't have._

Everyone was fairly deep into their cups. But these things happened when Bull kept the drinks flowing. Though, Cassandra had reasoned, it was pleasant to unwind every once in a while. 

She was lounging low in her chair, feet stretched out under the table, completely at ease for what felt like the first time in ages. She took a sip of her ale and nearly spat it out when Cole popped up behind her.

“Cole,” she said. “We've spoken about the sudden appearances, it is not polite.” 

“His thoughts are loud, persistent even with so many people.” Cole moves around to crouch next to Cassandra's chair. 

“Whose thoughts?” 

“ _Legs that don't quit. Shouldn't think about them wrapped around_ \--” She reached out and slapped a hand over the boy's mouth. 

“Cole, don't read people's thoughts.” 

“But they're loud,” he repeated when she dropped her hand. Cole's eyes drifted across the tavern, and she sucked in a deep breath before following his gaze. 

She felt a tingle run up her spine, a hot flush creeping up her neck when she realized that Varric was in the corner, nursing a beer and watching her over the rim. 

“You should talk to him. He would like that.” 

“I'm sure he would.” She drained her ale and rose from her seat. “Cole? Just, please stop reading minds for the night?”

“I can try.” He laughed and disappeared in a flash. Shaking her head, she fought her blush and strode over to where Varric sat. 

“Good evening, Seeker.” 

“Good evening, Varric,” she replied, taking a seat next to him and stretching out her legs again.

 

_VI. Once when she made him blush._

It was another game of Wicked Grace, somehow _everyone_ was in attendance. Which was a miracle in and of itself. Especially given the antics from their last time. Although this time Josephine was bared from dealing. Cullen had also asked she roll up her sleeves. 

Even with the set rules, Josephine still managed to rake up a rather large pot. 

“I'm out,” Varric said as he tossed down his cards. “The only thing I have left to bet is Bianca, and I can't give her up.” 

“Not true,” Leliana said next to Josephine. “There's still your shirt.”

“And trousers,” Josephine added. They both started giggling as Cullen muttered obscenities under his breath. 

Varric chuckled. “I think I'll pass this time, ladies. I don't want to reenact Curly's walk of shame.”

“A pity,” Cassandra said, slowly meeting Varric's gaze across the table. “I was hoping to see that.” 

His blush was sudden and vibrant, staining his cheeks and running down his neck. He quickly ducked his head, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“I um.. _ahem_...” Varric sputtered as the table erupted into laughter. 

She honestly shouldn't have been as pleased as she was, but it was a rather wonderful sight to see Varric not only blushing like mad, but at a complete loss for words. For once in his life. She enjoyed finally having the upper-hand. 

“ _Hands groping. Mouths pressed together. Hard body and soft heart. You can see whatever you like, Seeker._ ” Cole's words silenced everyone at the table, except for Bull who was quietly snickering behind his cup of ale. 

Cassandra met Varric's gaze over the table, and she was certain her face was as red as his at that point. 

“Perhaps we should speak... in private?” she whispered, even though it was impossible for the others not to hear. They could have heard a pin drop at that moment. 

“Yeah. Good plan.” Varric scooted back his chair, making a beeline for the door. Cassandra followed close behind. 

“Just don't _talk_ too loudly! You wouldn't want the rest of Skyhold to know what you're up to!” Dorian yelled after them. Cassandra did not dignify that with answer, instead slamming the door shut. 

Cassandra peered into the darkness, looking for Varric. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he seemed to materialize beside, much like Cole was fond of doing. 

“So, Seeker,” he said, voice low. “If we're to have this private talk, do you think you could finally answer my question?” 

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “What question?” 

“Any other ticklish places I should know about?” He grinned widely. 

She returned his grin with one of her own, “I suppose you'll just have to find out on your own.”


End file.
